Ends And New Beginnings
by TheOneThatLeftAfterAll
Summary: His time was running out and he knew. It was almost funny, really. A few years ago he had prayed for this day to come, had wished for nothing more dearly than the end of this farce he begrudgingly called his life. Of course his prayers had to be answered just after he changed his mind. A story about the Anschluss, Austria, and the marvel of arts and music. Historical AU, I guess.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:/This is an AU. Very much so in fact. It really doesn't have much to do with canon when you get down to it. But that's what fanfictions are for, no? Just thought I'd give a fair warning. Now on with the story.**

* * *

 **I**

His time was running out and he knew. It was almost funny, really. A few years ago he had prayed for this day to come, had wished for nothing more dearly than the end of this farce he begrudgingly called his life. Of course his prayers had to be answered just after he changed his mind. Silently he wondered if the Lord was laughing at him right now. He probably was. Well, in a few days he might be able to give him a piece of his mind in person at least...

Roderich Edelstein, personification of Austria, was forcefully ripped from his thoughts by a door slamming shut behind him. He had been pacing up and down his office at the Hofburg, fidgeting with a violin bow as he did so, for a good while now. When he turned around he found himself looking at the frustrated figure of his president. The man looked like he desperately needed a drink, and Roderich could hardly blame him. All of them were about ready to down a few bottles of Vodka by now, if they were being honest.

"So I take it Italy won't be helping us then?," Roderich decided to ask when his boss didn't say anything. Not that he couldn't have guessed the answer already. Italy had pretty much ditched them years ago after all, even though Feliciano had tried to prevent it. It was a nice gesture, he supposed.

Miklas just shook his head with a grave expression, and Roderich almost felt bad for him. Almost. They had never gotten along too well and it was no secret they didn't like each other. If he was being honest, he didn't like most of his government, but this was not the time for infighting. There were important things at stake right now, more important than their comparatively petty disagreements.

His president said they would try to call France and Britain, who were technically allies of theirs too. Roderich couldn't stop himself from snorting at that. If that was their best bet, hope really was lost. Usually, his boss would have at least glared at him for doing something like that, but he just sighed. This situation was entirely hopeless, wasn't it? At least, Roderich guessed, they could say that they tried. That ought to count for something, right?

* * *

He left the building soon after that at his bosses suggestion. There was nothing left to do for him right now but wait and pacing up and down in his office wasn't going to help anyone. So he might as well get some fresh air. Or at least so Miklas had said. Roderich doubted that fresh air was going to improve his mood, but he complied anyway. It wasn't as if it mattered. By now Germany had given them four hours to essentially surrender. And they would, Roderich knew. They all knew. It had been obvious for a while that their days were numbered, no matter how desperately his bosses tried to change that. With a sigh he sat down on a park bench and watched the people passing by him.

His people, he thought. Because he had a people now, not really stable, strong or large yet, but still there. The feeling was incredible. It was no wonder the others had always been so insistent in these regards. He had never paid them much mind before, but now he finally began to understand. Just in time to have it ripped away from him again. And judging by the kinds of plans Germany seemed to have he wouldn't get an opportunity to get it back.

Roderich wasn't a fool, quite the opposite in fact, and he knew perfectly well that this unity Germany kept enthusiastically talking about whenever they met would be a death sentence for him. After all, if all German peoples were united as one, and Austria gone for good, there would be no need for him any more, would there, or for any of the other states. Not that Roderich cared much for most of the other German nations, with the exception maybe of Bavaria. But he didn't want them to die either, nor did he want to die himself any longer. Of course, Germany wouldn't get that into his thick skull, or if he did he was hiding it well.

He wondered if Germany even realised what he was doing. After all, the nation was barely more than a child at the end of the day. Not that it really mattered, he guessed. Germany wasn't going to stray from his orders, whatever he may personally think of the matter. And Roderich was going to die. And his people would be left in a cultureless abyss in a world void of beauty and art. His own bosses laws were already driving him mad, and Germany's would be so much worse if the news from across the border were anything to go by. As far as Roderich was concerned that was the worst part about all this, worse even than his impending doom.

He really did try to think of a way out. All of them had. But his bosses weren't exactly beacons of sanity, calm and competence and if he had to admit it, he himself was not doing too well either. And tomorrow it would all be over, he guessed, one way or another. Roderich wondered how quickly he would cease to be. He knew nations could live just fine under another's rule, but he had never actually considered the specifics of the process. Not to mention most of the others had at least one of their parts left intact when they were dissolved. It probably would come down to how long his people would continue to call themselves that. Roderich gave it three weeks, maybe a month.

* * *

As expected, France and Britain weren't available. They were officially on their own. Soon Miklas had decided to step back, and Schuschnigg had followed suit soon after. Roderich had to admit his farewell speech was rather moving, all bad feelings between the two of them aside.

The rest of the day went by in a sort of daze for Roderich. He watched people hastily walk past him, suitcases in hand, as the first police men were donning a Swastika on their uniforms. The whole country was up and about, doing one thing or anther in preparation of what was to come. Roderich found himself walking to the State Opera instead of his home, where he spent some time chatting with a friend or two. It was a pleasant distraction, but even then the mood was worse than usual. They were about to loose some good musicians and supporters, they were all sure, and it dragged them down. It should be a crime, Roderich thought, to deny somebody access to music and art.

When he finally made his way home, there was a strange ringing in his ears and his mind was unfocused. For a long while he stared out of the window of the apartment he had bought in the First District a long time ago, watching the people still about on the street below even now. Some of them seemed to have acquired torches or something of that sort. He hoped they wouldn't end up damaging something valuable. When he finally managed to tear himself away from the sight, his stomach was growling but he didn't really feel like eating at all. Instead, he made his way to the music room and sat down by his piano.

For a moment he just sat there, body unmoving and mind devoid of all thoughts. Then, without him really putting much conscious thought into it, his fingers began moving. Soon the melodies of Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy, Strauss, Bach and many more could be heard throughout the flat. It was a colourful mix of music he played that night, sombre and happy, fast and slow, wild and gentle. An homage to the men he admired so, Roderich thought to himself, while he still had the chance. And so he played and kept on playing even as his fingers began to hurt and his eyes grew heavy.

* * *

At some point throughout the night he must have fallen asleep, because he awoke the next day slumped over the keys of his piano. With a frown he got up and went to the kitchen, staring wearily at the food in his cupboard. He still didn't feel like eating anything, but he should probably at least try. Roderich managed to force down a piece of bread and some water before he went and checked the time. It was still fairly early, he noted in mild annoyance. He had never been much of a morning person, even on the best of days. For a while he stared at the clock, unsure what to do with himself. He should probably go and introduce himself to his new boss and do his job as a nation but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Maybe he should just stay here and hide in his music room until Germany inevitably showed up at his doorstep? It was an endearing thought, but he decided against it. He needed something to keep his mind off the situation lest he drove himself completely back over the bend.

So eventually he settled on visiting his friend Jonas, a fellow musician working at the Volksoper. They could go and enjoy the cultural wonders of Vienna one last time before what still remained of it was ruined too, he supposed. And so he eventually found himself on the tram to Leopoldstadt, trying to ignore the goings on around him. He wasn't particularly successful.

When he finally knocked on Jonas' door, his mood was worse than it had already been when he woke up. It didn't help that this district seemed an even worse mess than the others. You could probably cause an explosion from the tension here. Not that Roderich was particularly surprised by that, everything considered, but that didn't make it sour his mood any less. Neither did his near run in with an angry police man or the nasty glances some people shot him as he walked past them. Jonas opened the door a bit more hesitantly and with a wearier look than usual, though his face brightened once he saw Roderich. Cheerfully he was invited inside and offered some tea.

When Roderich told him of his plan for the day, Jonas, seemed more than happy to tag along. It occurred to Roderich that his friend probably needed the distraction too, possibly more so than he himself did. So after having a cup of tea, they went out, very much intending to avoid the events of the day. For that they had to use a lot of small side streets, but they didn't mind much. They visited the opera and chatted with some of their friends there, went to a museum, admired the art and architecture their beloved city had to offer. Much as many of his people disdained Vienna, Roderich wouldn't trade it for the world. He adored the place.

Finally, they settled in a coffee shop, enjoying some Viennese coffee and pastries. In the background, the sound of tanks, of cheering and chanting, the general bustling of people accompanied them. It had done so for most of the day, though they tried to ignore it as best as they could. Eventually, when that didn't work out, they just began joking about it instead. Oddly enough, it helped.

And so Roderich Edelstein did not visit the Heldenplatz that day. He did not meet his new ruler, did not stand in a cheering crowd. He did not meet up with the personification of Germany, who so loyally accompanied his ruler and he did not wear any uniform or bear a weapon. In the back of his mind a small voice complained about this very much un-nation like behaviour, but he decidedly ignored it. After all, he wasn't even really a nation anyway, at least not enough of one to care. He wouldn't be able to avoid the confrontation with Germany and whatever may follow it for long, so he could at least try and enjoy himself for a bit before his time came.

So, instead of acting like a nation or a diplomat, the musician Roderich Edelstein spent the day with is friend Jonas Holtzer, talking about arts and culture, telling jokes and enjoying himself a bit. When they went to visit an opera concert in the evening, they had almost managed to banish the troubling thoughts from their minds. Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:/I don't know if Czechia, Slovakia and Slovenia have canon human names, but since this is an AU anyway I figured I'll just give them some myself for this. So:**

 **Karel - Czechia**

 **Božena - Slovakia**

 **Maj - Slovenia**

* * *

 **II**

Roderich accompanied Jonas home after the opera was over. It was already dark outside and they figured it would be saver that way. When they arrived at Jonas' place, having narrowly avoided various confrontations, they were visibly relieved. However, they had had to spend more time than usual for the way because of this. Long enough, Roderich realised, for the tram system to be shut down for the night. Even under the best circumstances, the walk to his own apartment would have been very much unwelcome to Roderich, but right now it seemed a flat out horrid idea. So he felt another wave of relive wash over him when Jonas offered him to stay the night. He could sleep on the couch, Jonas said. As he thanked his friend, it occurred to him that Jonas was probably about as eager to be on his own as he was.

They chatted a bit longer before going to bed. Neither of them was particularly eager to lay down, in silence and alone with their thoughts. The couch was comfortable and the pillow and blanket Jonas had given him were fine, but Roderich still didn't get much rest. He dreamt of empty galleries, silent concert halls and swastikas. When he woke up in the morning, yet again much earlier than he would have liked, he did not really feel any more rested than he had the night before. One look at Jonas, who was already up, sipping coffee in the kitchen, told him that his friend hadn't fared much better.

He stayed for breakfast before making his way home.

* * *

The walk was about as uncomfortable as it had been the night before. Roderich wondered if other nations ever felt so unnerved by their own people. Or at least he thought it was his people, he wasn't really sure. Some of them had to be, he supposed. The general unpleasantness was however shoved to the back of his mind when he started to think, yet again, of the confrontation with Germany and his surely impending doom. Not showing up yesterday probably wouldn't exactly do him any favours in that regard either, he realised.

The closer he came to his home, the more on edge he felt. When he finally reached the entrance he almost felt nauseous. In a desperate attempt to buy himself more time, he went to check his mail. Unfortunately, grabbing a handful of letters did not take particularly long and so he quickly found himself before the door to his apartment. Just to find it unlocked and damaged. That probably meant Germany decided to let himself in, Roderich figured as he inspected the door. At least it wasn't beyond repair he thought, that would have been a shame. Honestly, didn't that man have any manners? He supposed that was what you got if you let Prussia of all people raise a child.

As he opened the door and silently entered, like a thief stealing himself into his own home, he wondered if Germany was still here or if he had left after finding him absent. Probably the former, knowing him. Indeed, Roderich found the other nation sitting at the kitchen table with a deep frown and crossed arms. That wasn't a good sign, but then, he supposed, what else had he expecting? He awkwardly moved to put the mail on the table, unsure what to say. Should he explain himself? Exchange pleasantries? Scold the man? What did you do in a situation like this? Centuries worth of etiquette and manner training hadn't at all prepared him for anything like his current situation.

Before he could make up his mind, the decision was taken from him as Germany spoke up.

"I was starting to think you deserted," he said, "Especially after you did not meet up with us yesterday. Where were you?"

Roderich couldn't tell what went on in Germany's head as he spoke - that man could be stone faced beyond all reason. Part of him felt rather offended, being accused of something like this in his own home, and by an intruder no less. The rest of him, which had retained a semblance of sanity, told him not to start an argument about that right now. So he begrudgingly settled on a glare and crossed arms instead as he answered the question.

"I was out with a friend of mine, and we lost track of time. It was late when we went back, so I stayed at his place for the night. And I was not even away for two days, hardly a justifiable reason to ruin my door and break into my home."

He hadn't been able to stop himself from adding that last part, survival instinct and sanity be damned. Trust the child of Prussia to break into somebody's home without so much as apologising.

Germany just stared at him in silence for a few moments, frowning, before asking about Jonas and what they were doing that could possibly be more important than meeting him and his leader. Roderich mentally scoffed at that last part. As far as he was concerned watching paint dry would probably be above a meeting with that classless, cultureless imbecile. He had enough sense not to say that aloud at least. Not enough to stop himself from going on a long tangent about arts and culture though, which Germany followed with a blank look on his face.

By the end of said rant, and after having dug himself into an aptly deep pit, Roderich decided he had probably said enough incriminating things to what was technically a state official for the day. So he told Germany to leave, as politely as he could muster. To his surprise, after only a few moments of hesitation, Germany stood up and went to the door. As he left, he told him that he would be back tomorrow, and that he ought to be there then. The door closed behind him, leaving Roderich standing in the hallway unsure if he was fine or if Germany would head straight to his boss and seal his doom. Damn that boy and his obedience, you'd think he was an automaton not a nation the way he followed orders. Heaven knew what went on in his head. Roderich just hoped whatever it was worked in his favour.

He sighed as he walked back to the kitchen to look through the letters he had gotten. It would be a distraction at least. Unsurprisingly, some of his crown states – former crown states, he corrected himself, they were not under one banner any longer – had sent him their condolences. Erzsevet, Karel and Božena, as well as Felix, Feliciano and Maj had announced that they would come by some time during the week to see how he was doing.

Roderich smiled to himself. Much as their people argued, and as bad as their relationship with the government may have been, he had always had a soft spot for his former crown states. They had saved his neck on many occasions and, over the centuries, proven to be not only good allies but pleasant company. Not to mention he had made them all into a lovely music group by the end of their time together. Though he would never admit it out loud, he considered them to be the closest thing he had to family.

He had been worried, when they had separated, that they would want nothing more to do with him. Thankfully he had been proven wrong very quickly. Not only had they continued to be close, they had also worked fairly well with each other in more official matters. It might not have always worked, but knowing that at least someone was on your side, trying to prevent damage where possible and get everyone to get along somewhat… It was a comforting thing to have. Honestly, with the amount of things they all still had from each other, be it people, traditions or objects, it wasn't exactly surprising. Neither was the conflict, to be fair, but it was worth it as far as Roderich was concerned.

It took a while for Roderich to tear himself away from thoughts about his crown states and turn his attention back to the final letter he had received. To his surprise, it was from Mexico. Roderich could not for the life of him think of a reason what Mexico of all people would want from him. They had barely talked before, not to mention they lived on different sides of the planet. As it turned out, Mexico, too had sent his condolences and sympathies. Apparently he considered his situation to be very relatable. For what reason Roderich had no idea, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. He should probably write him a letter back later to thank him for it.

First he would play some music, though.

* * *

He was on his way to the kitchen later that day to make dinner for himself when there was a knock on the door. Before he could go and answer, it was thrown open. Apparently Karel decided that 'sometime this week' meant 'today'. Not that Roderich was particularly surprised by that, if he was being honest. His visitor grinned when he saw him, then noted that his door was broken. As if he couldn't tell that. He also asked what had happened as he gave Roderich a one armed hug.

"Guess." Roderich answered. As an afterthought he added: "You are staying for dinner?"

Karel raised an eyebrow at him as he said: "Shees, already? What did you do, set fire to one his manuals? And yes, gladly."

Roderich sighed, but a small smile still appeared on his lips nevertheless. "Heh, I skipped our meeting yesterday to go to the opera and didn't come home until earlier today. To be fair, he never actually said that I would have to be there," he said, as they went to the kitchen so Roderich could prepare dinner.

That managed to get a chuckle from his guest, who claimed that it was just so like him to miss a meeting with a new boss for a concert. "So, why didn't you come home afterwards? Spent the night with a pretty cellist?," he added with a barely concealed grin, which earned him a huff and a soft slap on the back of the head from a slightly blushing Roderich. Honestly, joking like that…

Roderich clarified the situation, only mildly embarrassed, telling Karel about his day out with Jonas and how he had ended up spending the night at his place.

"We are having Apfelstrudel, by the way. Since you are here, you might as well help with the cooking. So go and cut these," he added, gesturing to a couple of apples he had just washed. Karel rolled his eyes but complied all the same. He carried the apples to the table so he would be out of Roderichs way before getting to work, all the while continuing their conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:/I don't know if Czechia has a canon human name, but since this is an AU anyway I figured I'll just give him one myself for this. So:**

 **Karel - Czechia**

* * *

 **III**

It was only when they were sitting at the kitchen table, eating freshly made Apfelstrudel with copious amounts of sugar on top, that their conversation actually got serious. Both of them had avoided the matter for as long as possible, but it seemed they had run out of idle chatter for the moment. So Roderich sighed between two bites and asked Karel the question that had been bothering him all day.

"How long do you think it will take for me to die?"

The words hung in the air for what Roderich knew was just a few moments, but what felt like aeons to him. Karel had stopped eating, fork halfway to his mouth, staring at Roderich with one eyebrow raised.

Eventually, he too sighed and answered; "Honestly, mistreček. I thought we finally agreed that dying isn't an acceptable option."

Roderich didn't answer him. It wasn't like he actually wanted to die now, and he knew Karel probably knew that just well. But this wasn't exactly in his hands any longer. Even if his bosses would ever listen to him, which they did not, it was too late now. And he doubted his people were enough to keep him alive if this continued for longer than a few weeks. Well, some of them might be stubborn enough to stick to it, but then, Germany's ruler wasn't exactly the type to take no for an answer. One way or another, he would be without a people sooner rather than later, he was sure of it. And he told Karel as much, albeit in fewer words.

Of course, Karel would have non of it. Not that Roderich was surprised by that, really. He seemed convinced that Roderich would be fine. Where on earth he got that idea from, Roderich couldn't even begin to fathom, but it was admittedly making him feel slightly better.

"Roderich, listen.", he said, "you're not going to die. Germany and your people be damned. We didn't get you this far just so you can quit on us now, got it? I mean, who else would we annoy if it wasn't for you? Germany? Russia? I think not. I've told you before and I'm telling you again, you are stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

That actually got a small smile and an amused huff from Roderich. He had no idea what on earth Karel thought him and the others could possibly do in this situation, but something about hearing him say things like that was strangely comforting. It always had been, really.

They finished the rest of the meal largely in silence after that, with just some occasional remarks by Karel. Then, after putting the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink to be worried about later, they went to sit in the living room, momentarily unsure what to do next. Their silent, still musings on the matter were finally broken by Karel, who had picked up a book that had been lying on the table. He turned it around in his hands a few times before asking Roderich how many now illegal books and record he had stored here in plane sight. Roderich frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

"Too many, I'd wager." he said with a sigh, "I haven't actually checked yet. It's probably too late now anyway, seeing how Germany let himself in earlier today... Still, I can't exactly leave them here, can I? I couldn't bear seeing them ruined. I'll have to sort through everything tomorrow and see how bad it is. Lord help me if I know where to store them though..."

Karel gave him a sympathetic look and a light pet on the shoulder as he answered; "Well, I'd offer to store them for you, but to be honest I doubt it'd do much good. I'm pretty sure we're next on the hit list. Or pretty high up, anyway." After a few moments of consideration, he added "I guess we could try storing them at the old place? I mean, it's abandoned and reclusive, not like anyone's going to be looking for it. Germany probably knows where it is, but we could probably figure something out. I suppose it'd beat hiding them in one of our places, anyway..."

Roderich stared at his hands as he considered the idea. It wasn't exactly the worst. Karel was right in that Germany knew where their old place was, but Roderich doubted he would think of going there if nobody outright told him so. He may not ever by entirely sure what went on in the other nations head, but he thought he knew him well enough to be more or less certain about that. The real problem would likely be explaining why he was suddenly missing what would probably be a substantial amount of books, records and the likes. Germany was much too observant not to notice, of that Roderich was sure, and after his rant earlier today he probably wouldn't believe that he had just thrown them away or something similar.

But on the other hand, what choice did he have. "I suppose that might work. Germany does know where it is, yes, but it's probably our best bet regardless..."

Karel agreed with a slight grin, and assured him to help with the matter as best he could. "While we're at it, we might as well store away my soon-to-be banned stuff there too. Maybe the others as well, just in case. I'll ask them about it.", he added with a sigh.

Roderich nodded with a frown. He wouldn't exactly be surprised if they found themselves in similar trouble to him very soon. Karel, it seemed, had about as much faith in their allies in the League of Nations as Roderich had had. So considering they couldn't count on any sort of help, it was probably best to prepare for the worst. It would be a terrible shame if some of the things Roderich knew they all possessed were destroyed. Heartbreaking, really.

After a short silence, Karel started chatting again, making a more or less successful attempt at a light-hearted conversation. It quickly devolved into dark and cynical humour instead, but as far as Roderich was concerned that was just fine. Karel and him had always had a very similar sense of humour, and Roderich found himself chuckling despite the gloomy subject matter.

* * *

It was past midnight when Karel finally left, giving Roderich another half-hug and a soft slap on the back as he said his goodbyes.

Not before ensuring that Roderich would definitely be fine with Germany in the morning, and that he shouldn't stick around to make sure of it though. Roderich sighed, but told him with a soft smile not to worry, promising to call him when the meeting was over. Or, if things really did go completely wrong, that he would call Erzebet immediately, as her number was quicker to dial. He didn't sound particularly confident as he said so, but Karel had still agreed to that arrangement with only a slight frown.

The moment Roderich closed the door behind his brother, the troubling thoughts from earlier returned to him at full force, almost ready to crush him beneath them. For a few moments he stood in the empty hallway, not sure what to do with himself. He considered playing the piano for a bit before going to bed, but eventually decided against it, seeing as Germany, unlike Roderich, was a very early riser and would surely show up at an unholy hour in the morning.

So, after ensuring that the still damaged door would stay more or less securely shut, he went and got ready for bed. Yet again, he found himself having trouble falling asleep. After a while of staring at the ceiling and failing to fall asleep, he sighed and got up again. He went over to one of his shelves and searched through it for a bit before grabbing a suitable record from his collection. Maybe some music would help him sleep, he thought, as he put it into the gramophone.

When he went back to bed, the melodies of Mendelssohn were filling the room, ever so slightly calming him. The music really did help, as music often tended to, whatever the circumstances may be, and Roderich soon found himself falling asleep, the wonderful melodies keeping him from the worst of his worries.

* * *

He awoke the next morning to a loud knocking on the door. The sun was barely up and it took Roderich all his will power not to ignore the noise and get back to bed. As lovely as the thought of more sleep was, his door was already damaged enough as it is. So he begrudgingly got up and headed to the front door, mentally cursing Germany for being a ridiculously early riser and insufferable nuisance. When he reached the door, he let out a long sight before opening it to welcome Germany with a decidedly annoyed glare.

His unwanted guest didn't seem to pay this any mind however, instead scolding him for his disshelved appearance. As if any sensible person would not be unkempt and in his sleepwear at maybe six in the morning. Roderich simply grumbled something that sounded more like a growl than anything else in response and headed off to get himself dressed and fix his hair. After quickly doing so, he went to find Germany in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his arms crossed, yet again. Deciding to ignore him for a moment, he instead went to make some coffee. His uncountable manner lessons told him that he should offer Germany a cup as well, but he ignored them too.

Germany watched him make the coffee with a simultaneously unimpressed and judgemental expression, but said nothing. When the coffee was done, Roderich sat down opposite of Germany. As he was taking his first sip, his unwanted guest decided to open the conversation. With a lecture on the importance of following orders, being on time, acting, as he called it, "properly" and similarly uninteresting things. Roderich barely listened to him, instead focusing on his coffee. It was, he thought, entirely too early for this.


End file.
